


Bartender! Another Insult Please! aka The Snarky Bartender

by Snarksnboojums



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bar personelle and customers., M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarksnboojums/pseuds/Snarksnboojums
Summary: Some people won't take the hint... and it works out anyway. :DJust a heads up:Foul language has been more or less blocked out due to the sensitivities of folks who don't approve of inappropriate language but it should be more than obvious to those who don't care.Thank you.  :D
Relationships: Beckett Reed, Samiyo Datoru
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, all characters are my own creation (no, I'm not Frankenstein). Any resemblance between my characters and anyone, living or dead, or any other works is completely coincidental. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, but flames will be stomped out. 
> 
> Also, the insults are ones that I've heard and have been told. I don't know who originated them since they're credited to several people. If you know who or where the insults came from, please feel free to email me and I'll be happy to fix it in the credits.
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> Snarks

Beckett Reed and Samiyo Datoru  
Original Characters  
Written by Snarks  
Copyright March 2010 to January 2020

The bartender's name was Samiyo. I had always been a collector of unusual names. and I'd never heard a name like that before so while I waited for my drink I asked him what nationality it was and what it meant. He gave me a bland look and explained that his parents had been on crack when he'd been born and his mother had been trying to turn on the television, which was a Sanyo. So, here he was! Named after a television, he grinned. He served my drink with an angelic, sweet, gap-toothed smile, then turned away and began to wait on other customers.

I sat there at the bar, watching and listening as he served up drinks and insults with equal skill. I was astounded at how popular he was with the customers who laughed and seemed to enjoy not only hearing others insulted but themselves as well. It seemed that nearly every word out of his mouth was an insult. Idly I added up the cost of the drinks and the tips he was being given and realized he was making more per night in tips than he was making per hour.

A couple of twenty-somethings had been sitting at the bar, tossing back tequila and shots, spilling as much on the bar as they got into themselves. Sam had tried to cut them off after the fifth time he wiped down the counter but the couple was having none of it. The young woman ordered a frozen strawberry daiquiri and then complained that he'd made it too cold and she'd gotten a brain freeze, to which he replied, “Oh honey, in order to suffer a brain freeze you'd need an actual brain."

"Y' think yer some kin'a of comeed'n, don'cha?" Her irate boyfriend growled, leaning over the bar toward the dark-haired, mocha-skinned creature that I had decided somehow would be mine.

"Oh honey, no! Me? A comedian?" he asked, hands waving expansively, “Thanks for the compliment but I couldn't possibly top the joke your parents made, ahhhh...I'd guess, twenty-three years ago?" Samiyo retorted, looking with great seriousness at the furious man sitting on the other side of the bar.

The now irritated patron ignored his girlfriend's pleas to let the matter go and leaned further across the bar in order to get in Samiyo's face. "You lea'e m' folks outta thiz y' jackazz!" he said threateningly.

Samiyo shook his head sadly, looking deeply disappointed. "Jackass? Really? Is that the best you can come up with?" My Samiyo responded as he continued to take and fill customer orders. Most of the customers were grinning and laughing, others got their drinks and left the bar area as quickly as they possibly could, though most stayed in earshot to see the eventual fireworks. The man continued his frankly, childish verbal abuse while Samiyo smiled and laughed with other patrons, fixing drinks with the ease of much practice.

" " 'm talkin' a'you, yeh f******!" The very drunk and very angry man continued. He hadn't noticed that his girlfriend had left the bar and was on the other side of the room, chatting cozily with two other guys.

"I'm sorry, what was that you were saying?" Samiyo asked languidly, as though just noticing that the man was there.

The man let out a string of expletive that I hadn't known existed in the English language. In any civilized language for that matter, while my Samiyo leaned an elbow on the bar and nonchalantly propped his chin up with one fist while the man continued the verbal abuse. The bartender stared blankly, completely unaffected by the man's tirade. He merely stood there in that attitude before the man finally realized he wasn't getting any response, and that the snarky bartender did nothing except stare.

"Wha's yer prob'em, dickweed!?" The customer demanded. "Wha' da f*** are you staring at?"

"I just think it's so cute that you think I'm actually listening to you," Samiyo replied in the tone of one admiring a fuzzy kitten.

"Tha's it mother f*****! Ou'side! Now! Yer mouth is jus' a backed-up drain and I'm gonna unplug it wit' my fist. Come on you f****** coward!!"

Samiyo simply cocked his head to the other side, examining the drunkard as though he were a fascinating specimen in a glass jar.

"Wha' the f*** are you looking at!" the man nearly screamed. This was not the way he'd imagined that this fight was going to go. He had to defend his reputation and get his girl back. 

"I'm just imagining you with a personality," Samiyo said quietly. "You're quite a handsome man, really. Why I'll bet you're the first one in your family to be born without a tail," he replied in a voice that conveyed wonder and congratulations. Sincerity oozed from every pore as Samiyo continued to feign admiration.

"Hey, Sammy!" yelled another patron, “Come on man! Suck his dick later. I want my drink now!"

Sammy smiled and left the inebriated and very perplexed gentleman to work through his last words.

With that same friendly, disarming smile Sam mixed up the man's drink and poured it expertly and without spilling a drop, into a large glass with ice. "Be careful, Perry, you know what the doctor said about mixing drugs and alcohol," Sam chided in a friendly voice.

"Drugs!? What drugs!?" Perry demanded.

"Those penis enlargement pills you've been taking," Sam answered glibly, "Oh, by the way, don't forget to tell the doctor how well they're working."

"What?" The man named Perry sputtered, thoroughly confused and looking around, embarrassed.

"Well, they must be doing something, hon, 'cause you're a bigger dick than you were last week," Samiyo smiled angelically.

"You sumbish!" Perry laughed.

Before he knew it, Sammy had mixed up another identical drink and placed it in front of Perry. "Come on, Pere, you know I'm just kidding. This is on me, take the edge off, eh?" Sammy replied with a grin.

Perry would have forgiven a serial killer as long as he brought along a six-pack before-hand.

"Hey!" yelled the drunken twenty-something who was completely unaware that his girlfriend had since walked out with one of the men she'd been talking to. "Ou'side! You 'n' me! Now!" he demanded, waving his fists in a wobbly fighter's stance.

Samiyo looked at the man with pity in his eyes. "Hon, I could hit you, but that would be considered animal abuse, and I'm a member of PETA."

The man began to lunge over the top of the bar, one hand reaching for Sam's shirt front and one cocked into a fist.

Before he knew it two of the bouncers who had been standing silently nearby, had him by the arms.

"Hey! Wait! He c'n just go 'round insul'in' people and were jus' su'pose t' take it?"

"Sarcasm is just one more service we offer," Sam replied, proudly.

"I wanna talk t' yer manager!" The man yelled, "I wanna l-l-lodge a co'plain'!"

"Let him go, guys," Samiyo said as he took out a piece of paper and a pen. "The manager isn't here but you can write your complaint on this," Samiyo said as the man began to furiously scribble his message. 

It was at that point that Sam dropped the bomb, "Then you can fold it up and stick it where the sun don't shine." 

"How's a' anti-social bas'ard like you keep a job!? Who you sleepin' wit'?" The man demanded, slamming the pen down on the half-written, nearly illegible, note.

"I'm not antisocial, hon, I just don't like you. Now, why don't you do us all a favor and grace us with the absence of your presence? I'll be more than happy to call you a cab... among other things."

The twenty-something glowered at Samiyo, glanced to either side at the large, muscular bouncers and decided that leaving would be best. He looked around for his girlfriend. Not seeing her and muttering something that sounded like some pretty bad words, the man turned toward the door, staggering slightly. The bouncers and Samiyo exchanged looks and a nod they escorted him to the side exit, rather than the entrance.

"Bartender," I called, "Another 7 and 7, please?"

When he brought the drink, I put one of my hands over his to keep him from leaving too quickly. He glanced down at our hands but didn't try to break free. His hands were lean and long-fingered. His hair was long and dark and looked as though he'd just rolled out of bed and come to work. He had a dancer’s build, slender, cat-like. He moved like a cat, now that I thought about it. I imagined what he must be like in bed.

"You really do come off as antisocial you know," I whispered with a grin.

"Oh hon, I'm not, I'm sorry you got that impression. No, I hate everyone equally. Race, religion and all that makes absolutely no difference to me," he replied with a smile as he finally slipped his hand out from under mine.

"Wait!" I called.

He came back, a curious expression on his face. He looked at my untouched drink. "Did you need something else? More lemon?" I thought it was amazing that he could recall that I preferred a slice or two of lemon in my drinks, considering how many people came to the bar on a daily basis.

"Your number," I said boldly, looking at his amber, almost leonine eyes which seemed both rounded and Asian at the same time. He had thick, dark, upper and lower lashes that gave the impression that he was also wearing eyeliner.

"It's unlisted, hon," he replied with another of his angelic, gap-toothed smiles. I loved his teeth. His lips were lush and looked eminently kissable beneath a straight nose. The dimmed light of the bar highlighted his high cheekbones. He had to have been the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Handsome just didn't seem to cut it when it came to describing Samiyo. He was like a work of art, like the story of Pygmalion. His body seemed to be made to entice, while his mouth, his beautifully shaped mouth, was made to make people either mad enough to hit him or amused enough to laugh and tip him double with what the drinks usually cost.

"I'd like to take you out," I insisted with a smile. As earlier noted, he certainly had a mouth on him but he was undeniably charming and very good looking.

"Oh, I can't this week, hon. There's a marathon of my favorite commercial playing on television. I'd hate to miss it."

"Tonight. At the end of your shift. Ten o'clock." I said quietly but firmly. "Meet me at the front door when you get out," I was smiling but my expression made it clear to him that I expected to see him.

Oddly enough he didn't seem to have a snarky come back to that and only looked at me from his slightly hooded eyes, blinking a couple of times as though processing the data.

I turned to leave and was stopped by a strangely childlike, only slightly snarky, uncertain voice which asked, "Are you going to tell me your name, at least?" After that, he seemed to regain at least part of his sarcastic nature and asked, "Or do I merely call you the Lone Ranger for now? Perhaps the Shadow?"

I turned back and smiled. "Beckett. Beckett Reed. I'll see you at ten."

tbc


	2. Samiyo and Beckett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To catch a wild stallion, use a sugar cube.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, special thanks to Sandycastle, and PJ for all of your hard work and help.

Bartender! Another insult, please! Chapter 2 

It was an hour or so before his shift ended but I'd had enough of the inside of the bar. I didn't mind going out for the occasional drink, and even sitting back and listening to live entertainment could be relaxing, but this had been an average night with nothing of note happening.

Except picking my Samiyo up at ten, I hoped. 

I went to my car and leaned against the driver's side door, keeping an eye on the front door for a minute or two before it occurred to me that someone as sly as Samiyo would probably slip out the side door and disappear while I stood there like an idiot. I laughed at myself and walked around the side of the building.

The drunken sot was standing in a darkened corner of the alleyway, apparently making an attempt to keep his presence a secret and failing miserably. If he planned to surprise Samiyo on his way out he was doing a poor job of it. Just to be on the safe side I called my cousin, Morgan, one of the bouncers who had shown our friend out, and told him my plan. I left the phone active in case I needed help and put it in my pocket. I'm a relatively tall person in good physical shape, but I was a self-proclaimed pacifist and had no desire to get into a fight of any sort.

I approached the man with a friendly smile, "Hey man, I'm out of cigarettes. Sell me one?"

I hadn't smoked in years but it was a way to get next to this joker without setting his radar off.

"Yuh. G' me a buck." He said, snapping his fingers in an offensive way. I just smiled, dug into my pocket for a loose dollar and handed it to him, after which he reached into a pack that looked as though he'd squeezed it in his hand and fished out a somewhat bent cig.

"Needa light?" He slurred, taking a swig from a bottle of vodka which he'd obviously bought at the nearby liquor store.

"Got it," I smiled, pulling out a lighter I kept for clients and lighting the cigarette. I drew in to get it lit but made a point not to inhale. Best not to start up the habit again after working so hard to quit in the first place.

"So, ah, what are you doing out here in a dark, smelly alley? Do you need a few bucks to get home? I'll call you a cab," I offered carefully. I didn't reach for my cell phone. I knew from past experience what alcohol could do to a person who couldn't handle it, and who knew if he'd taken anything besides a 'few' drinks.

"Nuh," he answered, "They pu'me in a cab, the bassurds. But I fooled 'em! Ha! I came back!" He crowed. "Waiting for a smart ass barte'ner da com'ou'. Sumnobish. Thinks hesssso funny. Imma ram my fisss down 'is big fat mouth an 'e kin see how funny 'e is wid'is jaw warred.... waarrred... f***."

"You're willing to get arrested on charges of assault and battery? Public intoxication? Aggravated assault?" I asked, taking a gentle draw on the cigarette. "Disturbing the peace," I continued.

"Nuh-uh. Ain' gunna happen. Gonna clean 'is clock an' run." The man laughed drunkenly. "Th'ain't gonna catch me. M' car's jus' roun' th' corner."

"Nice car, is it?" I asked interestedly.

"S'lvur BMdublyouyou 4 Ssssserriizz. Ssssserriieeez. Ah **** it. ****** thing cossses more'n that bassurt'll make in 'is life."

"And you're willing to just hand it over to him?" I asked, acting surprised.

"F*** no! Whadju talkin' 'bout me hannin it'a him! You drunk'r jus' stupit?"

"No, but you are." I replied reasonably, he was too far gone to realize I'd just insulted him. "And if you touch that guy for doing nothing more than insulting you, he'll own your car, your house... hell you'll be working for him for the rest of your life. Is it really worth it?"

"He inzullllded me! My guuuurl took off on me! He 'umiliaded me!" the man said. I could hear tears in his voice.

"And that's worth losing everything you have just to get a little revenge?" You already lost your girl, I thought, he'd be a fool to take her back.

"He can' ac' like tha' an' get 'way wid it! He can't talk t' peeepl' like that! I'ma vaaarrrry imporntnant man an' 'e can' talk da me like tha'!" he continued, becoming belligerent.

"Well, you're right." I replied, taking the man off guard. "Now look, you go on home. I promise I'll take care of the boy, and you get to keep your possessions and your dignity."

"Dininny?"

"Well yes, of course. You wouldn't want it known that you had dealings with someone like that, would you? I mean, you're a big business man. You have an important job," I cajoled. "A man of your stature getting into a scuffle with a smart-mouthed kid is beneath you."

"'e's unprofff... umporfff... what?"

"As a matter of fact, I plan to do something about his mouth as well. But my way won't get you arrested or sued. So, what do you say, my friend? Let me handle this smart-mouthed brat tonight, and you get to keep your car. Deal?"

Before he had a chance to answer, the yellow cab that my cousin Gordon, another of the bouncers had called, showed up at the end of the alley. "Hey, here's the ride you called for," I said brightly, leading him toward the cab. 

I wondered if the drunkard was going to fight with me but his brain was pretty well pickled. "My cab's 'ere? I call' a cab?" He inquired, screwing his face up in confusion as he tried to remember when and why he'd called for one.

"Yep, here it is," I replied, walking calmly with him to open the door for him. "You called because you're going to let me handle this kid, remember?"

"I did? I am? Yer gonna give tha' kid wha' he dessservesss?" He asked suspiciously.

"Absolutely," I answered, making the cross my heart motion.

"Awwride then!" The man grinned, clapping me on the shoulder with nearly enough force to knock me over. "You ged 'im! You ged 'im and you give'm wha'for from'e!"

"What's your name my friend, I'll be sure to pass your message on."

"Aflomse... Abolom... Damn! Alphonse!" the man managed before degenerating into drunken gibberish which might have translated into Van Wolfermore but I couldn't be sure.

"All right sir. Now you just go on and get a good night's sleep," I said as I helped him into the cab and shut the door. I gave the driver a hundred dollar bill and sent him on his way once I'd gotten something like an address for the drunkard. At that, the cab pulled away and I watched to be sure that Mr. Van Wolfermore didn't jump out again I saw Morgan calling Gordon on the walkie to let him know that it was all clear.

"Hey, Morg," I said quickly.

"S'up cos?" he replied with a grin. "Gotta give you credit, man. That was some slick-talking. So, what can I do for you?"

"Hey, make sure that bartender comes out the front door, OK? His secret admirer was lurking in the shadows waiting for him to come out of the employee entrance in the alley."

"Do I need to come out?" he asked, concerned. It wouldn't be the first time that Sammy had offended a patron who tried to stick around to teach the kid a lesson.

"No, I made sure the guy stayed in the cab this time, thank you for being there by the way. However, I do want to speak to Sam myself when his shift is over and I don't want to have to hunt him down."

"Gotcha," Gordon replied with a smile in his voice. Samiyo was the first man in that bar that I'd taken a shine to, and Gordon had no problem herding the little lamb my way.

tbc


	3. Samiyo and Beck

Bartender! Another Insult, please!  
Chapter 3

Beckett Reed and Samiyo Datoru

I wasn't expecting him to run into my arms and plant a big wet one on my lips, but I wasn't prepared for, "Damn not you again... I'm sorry I'm busy right now, can I ignore you some other time?"

"I told you I'd be waiting for you at 10," I replied.

"So, you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public. That's lovely," he cooed as though admiring a new diamond ring. "Now I really must be going," he said as he walked around me. Lord could he move, I thought admiringly.

"Samiyo!" I called at his retreating back. "You have your whole life to be a smart ass... so why don't you take a day off? "

He stopped dead, standing like a high-end store mannequin.

He was encased in what looked like leather pants, practically spray painted on his body, leather biker boots, a cream satin shirt, all covered at this time, by a leather biker's jacket, complete with chains and enough metal to make an orthodontist nervous. He turned then, from the waist, his torso, his shoulders, his neck and then his head. The way he placed his hands on his hips caused the hem of his jacket to flare out slightly, giving me the impression of a cobra with it's hood fully extended.

We stood there for a few moments just looking at each other until finally he smiled and laughed, turning the rest of his body toward me. He cocked his head and looked at me, much as he had looked at the drunkard in the bar; as though I were some interesting specimen. I kept my gaze on him but didn't approach or give up, which is what I believed he wanted in the first place.

"You're quite something in there. You have a very interesting rapport with your customers," I said with a meaningful grin. "My mother would have called you a little devil," I grinned.

"Yes, I do admit to being an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial," he quipped. He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as though to get a better look at me.

"Well, Demon Child, since you've carried out your nefarious duties so well, I'd like to take you out for coffee. I want to get to know you better."

"Well, as I said before, I'm busy now," he said conversationally as turned that sinewy, dancer's body back around to continue his journey to wherever he'd been going.

"Put away your attitude, little boy, and let's go for that coffee," I replied.

"Did you know that caffeine is a highly addictive drug?" he asked, turning back toward me. "Did you know that it accelerates aging and damages your blood vessels and immune system? Coffee also contains chemicals, including carcinogens," he continued conversationally.

I smiled and approached him casually. "Well, we certainly don't want that." I interrupted, sure that he would continue his commentary if I didn't stop him. "We'll make it decaf, or herbal tea then, shall we? Either way, I want to know more about you."

"Whatever for?" He asked... his disbelief that anyone would want to get to know him in any way, clear in his tone. His preternaturally beautiful eyes widened in honest puzzlement.

"Do you have a car, Samiyo?" 

"No, I prefer to walk," he responded with slight hesitance.

"I'm parked right there," I pointed to my Lexus, "We'll go to Pelican's Restaurant. We'll sit and talk, and then I'll take you home."

He hesitated again and I reassured him, “It's still early, we'll sit and have a drink, perhaps a quiet dinner, then I'll bring you home safe and sound. It will also serve to help you avoid your pugilistic pal from earlier."

I saw the amber-gold eyes scan the area with only a hint of nervousness. His expression, however, was one of acceptance more than fear. That acceptance nearly unnerved me.

"Don't worry, he's gone for now, but who knows who else you might have offended with your attitude problem," I said gently.

He grinned, that alluring gap-toothed smile I'd fallen in love with and replied, "I don't have an attitude problem, hon, I’d say it's more of a perception problem on their side."

By that time we had reached my car and I had unlocked and opened the door for him. He slid in gracefully, looking up at me from beneath those dark lashes with a mixture of trust and uncertainty that sent another jolt of electricity through me. I was sure that there was more to this boy than stunning looks and a sharp tongue, and I was going to be the one to find out what it was. I did notice, however, that he kept one hand on the passenger side door handle, in case he needed a quick escape.

It began to rain as we headed toward the restaurant and I turned on the wipers. I glanced at Samiyo and was struck again by his beauty, and the sad expression on his face that he didn't seem to be aware of as he looked out into the darkness. The shadows from the rain on the windshield fell on his face and gave the appearance of tears running down his cheeks. He gave a nearly imperceptible shiver and I turned the heat on.

I didn't want to break the silence, and I kept an eye on him from my peripheral vision. He seemed comfortable in the semi-darkness, enough at least to relax and reveal more of himself than he had shown while behind the bar.

The attitude was resting, if not gone. The smart mouth was still, showing off its luscious curves even more. Car and street lights caught and accentuated the leonine eyes and high cheekbones. I wondered if I could get him to pose for me because I would paint picture after picture of him which I was sure would sell for thousands apiece... that was if I could bear to sell any of them.

We reached Pelican's and he let himself out of the car before I could open the door for him. He seemed ill at ease, and then suddenly the Samiyo from the bar was back. Shoulders straight, head erect on his long neck, lashes shadowing eyes which suddenly appeared dark.

"It's just the two of us, Samiyo, we'll find a table or booth as far away from other people as possible, all right?"

He took a deep breath and I could see his posture relax slightly. He replied with an easy smile, unlike the wide grin he usually bestowed on people.

We walked in and I asked the hostess for a quiet table somewhere. She looked around and lead us to a far corner on the opposite side of the family area where a few late travelers dined with their tired, cranky children.

He and I both winced and tried to hold our breaths as we walked along behind the hostess who had apparently recently taken a bath in the strongest perfume she owned. We looked at each other and smiled, suppressing our laughter. He was a lovely man, but it was more obvious when his smiles weren't forced.

She handed us our menus and assured us that our waitperson would be with us shortly before leaving in another wave of overwhelming scent. As soon as she was out of sight Sam fanned himself with the menu, his eyes were watering slightly.

"Oh Lordie! What did she do, marinate in it? Uhhh! I can taste it!" he complained in what for him was a quiet voice.

The waiter arrived just then, order pad in hand, pen poised, unctuous smile in place as he asked if we would like some drinks while we looked at the menu.

"Coffee. Black. Quickly." Samiyo said, wiping his eyes with the napkin and continuing to fan himself with the menu. I gave him a surprised look, then smiled back up at the waiter and ordered the same.

"Black coffee?" I asked with a knowing expression.

"Nothing gets rid of the taste of sludge better than black coffee. Oh, Lord when is he going to bring it over? Excuse me, will you? I'll be right back," he said, his nose wrinkled, as he headed toward the men's room.

The coffee arrived moments before Sam did. He looked much more at ease and less green around the gills. "Sorry," he said to me, ignoring the waiter, "Strong odors make me ill. I had to scrub the residue off. I swear I felt as though it were washing off of her and settling on me."

He turned toward the waiter then and said: "I don't know how you can breathe around her, let alone work with that all night long."

The waiter's smile faltered but he kept his thoughts to himself. "I'll let you look at your menus a little longer and I'll be back to take your odor... I mean, your order." He blushed before turning and walking away quickly.

Samiyo watched the waiter's retreat and giggled, "Make sure to check your food before you eat it."

I gave him an inquiring look.

"When I was a waiter and people would piss me off, I'd spit in their food, or 'accidentally' slip some eggshell into their meal. So just be careful." he grinned.

"Do you go out of your way to destroy everything and everyone around you or is it just a natural gift?" I asked, genuinely interested. The more I saw of him, the more he spoke, the more intrigued I was. 

"At least I have a positive attitude about my destructive habits," he grinned as he opened his menu. "Have you looked at the menu yet?" he asked, not bothering to hide the fact that he was blatantly changing the subject.

I glanced at the menu, decided to order the same thing I always ordered when I came to Pelican's and put it aside while I sipped my coffee. I could see Samiyo letting the coffee stay on his tongue for several seconds before swallowing. I could see the actual moment when he felt his palate was cleansed because he gave a relieved smile and put the cup down to pay more attention to his menu.

"Do you know what you want?" I inquired after a few minutes.

"What I'd like is a club sandwich, but every time I order one, no matter where I am, there is always a hair in either the sandwich or the fries," he replied, wrinkling his nose again as he imagined the hair.

"How about if I order the same thing for you that I order for myself. This way they won't know which plate to spit in, and I'll make sure they go light on the hair."

It was the first time I'd ever heard him laugh, and I so desperately wanted to hear it again. A low, throaty, unbelievably sexy chuckle. "You're a brave man, Charlie Brown," he said.

I held out my hand across the table, “Beckett Reed, also known as Beck," I introduced myself with a smile.

"Samiyo Datoru, also known as the Snarky Bartender," he smiled back as he shook the extended hand. "I must admit, my charm and wit don't usually appeal to people outside of the bar, and sometimes not inside either, so I'm a little surprised that you were so insistent that we come out for coffee."

"I find you fascinating, and I'd like to get to know the reality of the man named Samiyo," I replied, leaning on my elbows and looking into the amber eyes.

"Easier said than done, hon,” he grinned, somewhat sadly, barely showing the gap between his front teeth, "Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental."

"Try me, Samiyo, the worst that happens is that you succeed in pushing me away, the best... well... we can discuss the best later."

"All right then, Charlie Brown..."

"Beckett. Or Beck. Understand?" I said firmly but quietly.

My tone seemed to take him off guard and he was silent for a few moments.

"All right... Beckett," he responded somewhat formally, his posture once again ramrod straight as he avoided any eye contact by looking out the window. 

I could almost hear him saying 'Up yours,' and I had to suppress a grin. Just then the waiter came and took our order then left quickly but not without a sidelong glance at my dinner partner.

"Tell me what you want to know? I have to tell you honestly, there isn't much."

"Tell me about your family. How you grew up. Where does the name Samiyo Datoru come from?

"My mother is from Nigeria, my father was from Norway. The name Samiyo, my mother said has no real meaning as far as she knew. Good old father took the money and ran as it were, and left mama with me, which is why I have a Nigerian surname."

"My family.... well let's put it this way. My family tree is a cactus because just about everyone on it is a prick. The Nigerian half hates me because I'm white, to them, anyway, and the white half won't even acknowledge me, so homey sit-down dinners are things I watch during Christmas television specials," he said in a very matter of fact tone which disturbed me all the more. "But I'm lucky. I do have my mother, and my little brother and they make things special."

"So tell me a little bit about yourself... when and where were you born?"

After a few moments, while he considered the questions, he finally answered, "I was born on September 9th. I know this because my birth certificate is actually a letter of apology from the condom manufacturer," he quipped. "Their idea of restitution were two coupons for fifty cents off her next purchase of their brand."

I appreciated that he was as willing to aim his sharp wit toward himself as much as everyone else but I didn't like hearing him put himself down. And if his extended family were really as bad as he made out, it had to have been a very lonely childhood.

"Where did you go to school?" I tried to redirect the conversation.

"Wherever we were," he shrugged. "We moved around a lot, a new job here, rent too high there, you know how it is," he said expressionlessly. "We never stayed around long enough in one place to settle down, except for one place when I was about 5 or 6. We really didn't have anything like home roots until I started working at the bar last year. I rented a two-bedroom apartment and we've been here since then."

"You live with your mother?" I asked. Somehow, as he spoke, I caught glimpses of the young, uncertain Samiyo, the lonely child, and the sharpness of his tongue began to make sense.

He hesitated for a moment, looking and listening perhaps for some note of ridicule or condemnation in my face or tone, but found none. Satisfied he continued, "She's getting older and more tired. She's had a long, difficult life and it's my turn to take care of her as best I can."

"I'd like to meet her someday."

Samiyo grunted a laugh. "Picture me shorter, plumper and with short hair, and that's mama... up to and including the smart mouth. Ah, my mama," he continued affectionately, leonine eyes unfocused on the distance, "Everything I know I learned at her knee. She's a special woman, that," he said with a fond smile.

"If she's up to it, I'd be pleased if you and she would come to my place for dinner next week."

Samiyo hesitated. "I don't think so, Beckett. My mother's social skills are more refined than mine, but my little brother..." he trailed off. "Not so much. However, I am as mean with a frying pan as I am with my mouth, and if you think you can handle us, it would be my honor to provide a Datoru dinner for you."

"Thank you, Samiyo, I'd be honored," I replied, pleased by his complete 180 since he'd left the bar.

Our meals came and we concentrated on those for a few minutes. He carefully cut his steak into bite-sized pieces, and then, as though continuing an ongoing conversation he asked, "How do you feel about cabbage and goat meat?"


	4. Samiyo and Beck

Bartender! Another Insult, Please! Part 4

I made a habit of visiting the bar as often as I could whenever I knew Sam was on duty, and I would top it off by bringing him a cup of coffee, which would elicit one of his real, relaxed smiles, a salute, and a swig. I'd found out that he liked flavored coffees so I tried to bring him a different one every night that I was able. I discovered that there was a real sweet tooth in that smart mouth.

I admitted some frustration that we both worked nights but since I owned the art gallery I worked at, I had an in with the boss and could get most any night off that I wanted. Sam, a bigger draw than the atmosphere in the bar, or the drinks, was a priceless commodity that his manager refused to do without any more than he had to. All of my begging and pleading hadn't been enough to convince my uncle to give Sam an extra night off on the weekend.

"Weekends are our busiest time! Or did you forget from when you were busing tables, huh?" He'd asked me, giving me a soft smack across the back of my head. "Next you'll be asking if you and Gordon can go catting around on Saturdays like you used to!"

I just smiled and took a seat at the bar to wait til my Samiyo had a few moments to spare.

"Ready for tomorrow?" Sam asked as he brought me a fresh drink. He leaned on the counter and smiled at me. He was clad in tight blue jeans that accentuated his bubble butt. A gold and diamond stud in his ear, a thin gold chain around his neck and a white shirt enhanced his smooth mocha complexion. 

I was only a couple of chromosomes away from being a full albino, but I loved how we looked together, my pale skin, his looking darker by comparison; his amber eyes and my ice blue; my neatly brushed platinum blonde hair against his, dark, and perpetually tousled no matter how often he combed it. I had to admit to some pleasure at how many double-takes people made whenever the two of us were able to get out together.

"I'm looking forward to it. Are you sure there's nothing I can bring?"

"Well, mama loves those Russell Stover candies. Find a twenty-pound box of those and bring them along, eh?" Sam replied with a wink.

"Samiyo! Sam, man! My customers are dyin' of thirst here! Stop making goo-goo eyes at the ghost there and fill the damned order!" One of the waiters yelled down the length of the bar.

"Crow,” Sam shouted back over his shoulder, “If you're gonna be a dick head at least wear a condom over it, eh?"

"Yeah, f*** you too, smart ass. Make with the drinks!" Max Crowley, known as Crow to all, yelled back.

"What do you need, Oh Great Olori Buruku?" Sam asked, bowing deeply.  
(asshole)

Crow looked at Sam uncertainly, not knowing what it was that Sam had said to him but knowing it couldn't be anything complimentary, "Don't get smart with me, kid."

"If I were getting smart with you, how would you know it?" Sam grinned, that wide, gap-toothed grin that charmed and disarmed.

Thinking that he was going to embarrass the young bartender, Crow belted out the names of a dozen drinks from a list in his hand. It said a lot for Sam's professionalism and skill that he didn't need to look at or write the order down to remember it.

Then, sinuously as a snake, gracefully as a tiger, Sam made his way down the bar, gathering up the ingredients for Crow's drinks. Every eye at the bar was on him as he performed what would have been an erotic dance anywhere else.

Sam placed each drink on a tray as it was made, as usual not spilling even a drop, then carried it over to Crow. He placed the spotless tray before Crow with a bow and a flourish, and in a husky, sultry voice accompanied by one of the sexiest and most provocative smiles I'd ever seen, said, "Nik ni ọwọ rẹ ki o si gba labara ara rẹ ni oju."  
(Shit in your hand then slap yourself across the face.)

Everyone at the bar burst into applause and wolf whistles, subsiding into laughter and going back to their chatter and their drinks when they saw that Sam had finished his latest show.

Crow was completely taken aback. Sam was an excellent bartender and his coworkers liked him but were clueless as to what the customers saw in him. Until now. Crow was grateful for the dim lighting in the bar because his face was burning and although he was straight as a board and married, he could feel a not unpleasant sensation spreading. He hurriedly delivered his drinks and ran to the men's room.

I watched Sam work for quite some time. I enjoyed watching him move and interact with his customers, and he didn't repeat his earlier performance for which I was grateful. During a brief lull, Sam came to me and gave me a surprisingly thorough kiss and one of his authentic smiles, which was sweet and boyish.

"That was some show you put on," I murmured in his ear as I nibbled on the lobe with the stud in it.

He chuckled, that sexy, husky sound that shot jolts of electricity from my groin to my brain and back again. "Did you like it?" he whispered, his breath tickling my cheek.

"Sam, I know that we haven't exactly sat down and said it out loud, but as far as I'm concerned, you're mine. I'm telling you now that any more displays like that are to be saved for me, and not for a bar full of strangers. Understood?"

Sam bowed his head slightly, studying me from beneath those thick, dark lashes; lips curved up in an amused arc, amber eyes glittering with some emotion I couldn't exactly put my finger on at the moment. Finally, he gave a shy and endearing smile. "Everyone is someone's weirdo, I may as well be yours," he replied, then he gave me another quick kiss before he allowed himself to be called back to work.

While I was working, as unobtrusively as possible, to help Sam rein in his smart mouth, I could see that it was as much a part of him as his ability to juggle bottles and put on a show while making drinks. I especially liked watching him turn down every man who hit on him, although I'd warned him about how he did it, reminding him about his friend Franklin Van Wolferstein, or whatever the man's name had been.

"You are so sexy, Sammy," breathed one enamored patron who had been hitting on him all night even though he had, at my urging, politely declined every pass. "You're so hot. Everything about you makes me hard. Let's you and I disappear out back. Whadda ya say?"

Sam had leaned in toward the patron, licking his lips, golden eyes wide and framed by the dark lashes that people still took bets on as to whether they were real or not, and said in a husky voice, "Oh, yeah, sweetie, you're so sexy my middle finger gets a boner every time you're near me," he'd replied, lazily flashing said digit before turning his back on the man.

I waited to see if the patron would take the hint with dignity or become angry. The man, finally getting the message, snarled at the other patrons who were chuckling, flipped my Sam the bird, slapped a twenty on the bar and stalked off.

"Sorry, sweetie," I heard him saying only minutes later, "I don't date guys whose age and IQ are the same."

Shortly before his shift was to end I heard Sam in a heated argument with a man and woman, and I went over to see if I might be needed. I stayed on the periphery, but close enough to step in if things got bad. I noticed that my cousins, Gordon and Morgan, the bouncers on duty, were close by as well.

"Hon," Sam was saying, "I can't possibly see your point of view because I can't get my head that far up my ass. Now, why don't you just drop it? I told you I wasn't anyone to judge," he tried to turn away but the man grabbed him by the bicep and by the look of it was digging in pretty hard.

"All you hadda say was that Stina here was the prettiest of the two of em. This 'They're equally pretty' crap was just... crap! All you hadda was say that Stina was the winner."

Stina, who had been standing with her arms crossed and one foot extended and tapping angrily, flipped her bleached blonde and expensively coiffed hair over her shoulder. "Yeah!" she said around a mouthful of chewing gum, “You're gay! I thought you people had taste and could identify quality when you saw it! There was no way that tramp was prettier than I am, or even as pretty. Where do you get off saying we were equally pretty!?"

"You are a physically attractive woman," Sam said, and I prayed that Sam would leave it at that, "However, perhaps if you ate some of that make up you trowel so thickly on your face, you'd be beautiful on the inside as well. She had a beauty you will never match as long as you continue to act like this," he said, making a gentle circular gesture in her direction.

"That's it, you're dead meat!" the man yelled, pulling back a fist. "Let's see what a big man you are with a few teeth missing."

To my surprise, Gordon held me back, but I could feel the tension in his arm as he prepared to jump to Sam's defense the second it was needed.

Sam caught the fist, and with his dancer's grace swung and turned so that the man's arm was twisted up behind him while his date shrieked.

"Oh, shut up!" he said disgustedly to the woman, "I'm surprised that anyone within a five-mile radius of you doesn't have seizures every time you speak!"

"And you!" he said disdainfully to the man who struggled and cried in his grasp. "Your mother is twice the man you'll ever be. If you don't want the truth then don't ask for it, and if you demand the truth," he continued, shoving the man's arm further up his back, "then live with it and don't have a tantrum when you don't get your way."

He shoved the man away but I could tell from his body language that he was prepared for a physical altercation, and the flick of amber eyes checking his surroundings. He saw me, winked solemnly, and focused his attention on the couple before him.

"Now, my shift is nearly over, and it looks like you two had a hard night. Why don't I get you a couple of drinks on the house? You sit and relax, and end your night on a pleasant note. What do you say?"

The man looked as though he were going to continue to argue, but the woman wasn't about to give up the opportunity for a free drink or two and she nudged her boyfriend in the ribs to get him to quiet down. "That's very gracious of you," Miss Bleached Blonde said around her mouthful of gum, which she popped coyly.

"Morgan, please, ask Hill to clean off a table for this nice couple and give them whatever they want, on me." 

Morgan and Gordon both grinned and shook their heads in amusement while they backed off, one to make his rounds, and the other to find Hillary who could charm the teeth out of barracudas. Besides Sam, she was the highest tip earner in the bar.

The now mollified customers followed Morgan to one of Hillary's tables and I could see the muscles in Sam's body relax somewhat, but I could hear him muttering to himself, and his brow was furrowed.

"Talk to me, hon. It's over," I said, putting an arm around him.

"That's very gracious of you," he mimicked in a nasal whine that reminded me of a swarm of mosquitoes. " 'Gracious!' I'm willing to bet she has no idea what the word means! God! I hate having to deal with people like that every freaking night," he griped, walking back behind the bar to wait for the couple's order.

Once he was back behind the bar he called the kitchen. "Robbie, would you please get me a plate of those finger snacks, the jalapeno poppers, and chicken nuggets and stuff, and have them sent out to Hill's table with the two morons sitting at it... don't worry, you can't miss them, woman looks like she got dressed in the dark in a clown's closet and then let Tammy Faye do her make up. Yeah... Thanks."

Hillary came around with the drink order and Sam mixed them up faster and with less showmanship than I'd seen in the past. Hillary was about to take the tray when Sam asked if she'd mind if he delivered them. "Don't worry, tips are all yours, sweetie pie," he assured her with a kiss to her cheek.

"Here you go, drinks on the house and I ordered you a little something from the kitchen," he said as he put down the thick paper coasters and placed their drinks on them. "Oh, and Miss, I didn't get the chance to tell you before but that dress you're wearing is absolutely meretricious!" he gushed, "And whatever else I might have said to offend you, I just wanted to let you know that you are by far the most vacuous woman I have ever met in my life. I mean that sincerely."

"Thank you!" The woman replied, blushing and coyly holding out her hand so that he could kiss the back of it.

He took the proffered hand between his and loudly kissed the back of his own hand, which both man and woman completely missed. "Ohhhhh!" Cooed the woman, "He's such a gentleman! Why can't you do that!" she said, angrily turning on her boyfriend.

Sam bowed with a smile and then left as quickly as he could. He clocked out and met me in the car.

"I had to get out of there before her voice shattered my eardrums," he said, pressing his fingers against his temples. "My Lord, I've never met a more stupid couple! If their brains exploded it wouldn't even mess up their hair!"

I pulled him closer and put my arms around him. He rested his head against my shoulder and I used one hand to massage his neck while I kissed his forehead. "OK honey, it's all over and done with. You handled that very well, I was proud of you. Where did you learn that trick?"

Sam gave a laugh that sounded eerily similar to a snort. "After you told me about Mr. Wolfwithnoheart I thought it would be a good idea to learn a little self-defense." He rubbed his shoulder ruefully. "Morgan kept me at it until I could get his arm down, if not behind him. And he gave me some good advice."

"What was that?"

" 'On the keyboard of life, always keep one finger on the escape key.' "

I huffed a laugh, "What?!"

"When faced with more than you can handle, keep your eye open for the closest escape route!" Sam laughed.

I drew him closer and into a kiss. When we finally broke it, we were both relaxed and unwilling to start the car and go home, so we sat there, watching the colors of the city pass us by in our little cocoon.


	5. Samiyo and Beck

Bartender! Another Insult, Please! Chapter 5

Samiyo hadn't told me what we were really having for dinner, but when we got out of the car in the parking lot the wind carried enticing smells to me and I breathed deeply. I saw him grin, that lovely gap-toothed grin I loved, as I took the bouquet of flowers and the five-pound box of Russel Stover candies out of the back seat.

"Tastes better than it smells, believe me," he said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

The apartments were built side by side, rather than one atop the other, so each apartment looked more like a miniature townhouse arranged in a semi-circle around a tree-filled courtyard.

We walked across the courtyard toward his apartment. It looked almost like a small park, filled with trees and large boulders that looked ripe for climbing. As I looked, I noticed some of the giggling neighborhood children peeking out from behind them and then disappearing again.

"Cute kids," I smiled.

"They're little cockroaches," he replied with venom. "Shine a light on them and they scurry back under their mother's skirts."

I didn't have time to ask what he meant before we reached the front door. 

"Mama, we're here!" he called as we walked in.

A short round bolt of energy barreled into Samiyo and he grunted, pretending that the air had been knocked out of him. "Ummmmph! And what did mama tell you about doing that, Kanonu?" He said fondly, tickling the young man.

The boy, who had to be in his teens, laughed, entirely pleased with himself. "I cannonballed you, Sammy! I cannonballed you! You have to sink now!"

I watched as Sam staggered over to the couch, clutching his stomach and groaning. An Oscar-winning performance if I ever saw one. He collapsed onto the couch, reaching toward his brother and said, "Tell mama... I... love her," he gasped before falling still and silent. Leonine eyes closed as if in slumber, long dark lashes brushing his cheeks. Not for the first time did I wonder what it would be like to wake up to that sight every morning.

The younger man, Kanonu, clapped and giggled through Samiyo's death throes and then jumped on him again, "You do that so good, Sammy! You do that so good!" 

Sam pretended to lie still for a while and then jolted up, causing Kanonu to shriek and try to get away, but he was too slow as Sam grabbed him and began to tickle every part of the younger man's torso that he could reach.

"What's all this noise down here then!" came a woman's voice from upstairs.

"You forgot to disarm the cannon and I got shot when I walked in," Sam laughed, disentangling himself from the younger man and approaching the woman who I could only assume was his mother. He bent down to kiss her cheek. She grabbed his face and gave him a loud kiss on the forehead before letting him go. Kanonu jumped up from the couch and ran to her, demanding kisses as well, which she seemed more than happy to deliver.

She was a good three feet shorter than her 5'7" son and pleasantly plump. She turned toward me and smiled widely, exposing a wonderful gap-toothed grin, the mirror of her son's. Except for the somewhat darker hue of her skin, and the color of her eyes, she was in fact, a female version of her son. All I could think was that the man who had allowed this lovely woman to escape had to have been insane.

"An' this must be Bec-kett," she said, making my name sound exotic. She looked at her son, eyes wide and sparkling with affection and humor. "Welcome to our home," she said, enfolding me in a matronly hug. I was still holding the flowers and candy but I returned the hug as best I could. 

She turned her gaze toward her oldest son and said with a glint of mischief in her eyes, "Iyen o! O si jẹ lẹwa! O ni won ko eke. Fun lẹẹkan." (Oh! He is beautiful! You were not lying. For once.") 

I couldn't help grinning as I saw Sam blush. "Mama," he said in that tone that all children who are being teased in front of their friends by their parents' use.

"Beautiful! Yes, he's beautiful!" Kanonu said, clapping, "He looks like an angel! Just like an angel! Just like you said, Sammy!"

"Hush you!" his mother smiled as she laid one finger gently on her younger son's lips. "Why don't you take these lov-e-ly presents and put them a-way," she suggested to Kanonu. "There is a tall vase under the sink that will fit these flowers be-u-ti-fully." she turned to me and enchanted me with another smile, "Thank you, Bec-kett. That was very thoughtful of you." 

I found myself entranced by her accent and wondered why Sam and Kanonu bore no trace of it.

"Can I have some candy, Mama?" Kanonu asked as he headed toward the kitchen, which was only separated from the living room by a stout pillar behind which the refrigerator stood.

"Yes, but only after dinner, young man," she replied fondly. "Sa-mi, would you please finish setting the table?"

"Yes, Mama," he replied, his tone so unlike the one I usually heard coming out of his mouth, even when he was with me, that my brows rose in surprise. She saw my reaction and leaned in conspiratorially, "He is a good boy, Bec-kett, don't let his razor tongue fool you," she whispered. "He only needs a good spank now and then to straighten him out," she giggled... a beautiful sound.

Pretending not to notice my shock, she said, "My name is Emira, Bec-kett, but you will call me Mama, eh?" she smiled. "Please, sit," she said graciously, gesturing toward the couch before turning toward the kitchen. She returned moments later with a bottle of wine and three glasses, which she placed on the coffee table.

I had been looking around while she had been in the kitchen. The room was tastefully decorated, striped curtains in earth tones hung at the window. The furniture was simple, a couch, love seat, and recliner in rust brown, an oriental rug that picked up the colors of the furniture and drapes. The whole room gave the feeling of being hugged.

All around the room, covering nearly every wall, were beautifully crafted wooden shelves which contained enough books to fill a small library, as well as wood carvings, statuettes and carved wooden boxes which looked as though they must have accompanied Ms. Datoru from Nigeria to the United States.

"Samiyo, Nigbati o ba pari pẹlu awọn tabili-ti wa kan mimu. Mu kan gilasi ti cider fun Kanonu, jowo," she called before gracefully seating herself beside me on the couch and pouring wine into the three glasses, handing me the first one. (Samiyo, when you finish with the table come have a drink. Bring a glass of juice for Kanonu, please.) 

"Bẹẹni, Mama." came the obedient reply to whatever it was she'd said.

"I can get it!" Kanonu shouted happily.

"No, Aaya, I'll get it. You go and talk to... ahhhh!" (Aaya - Monkey)

The unmistakable sound of liquid splashing to the floor explained the unmistakable sound of tired frustration coming from my Samiyo.

There was dead silence for a moment before Kanonu began to cry. I was about to get up to see what I could do to help, perhaps even mop up the spilled liquid, when Ms. Datoru, Mama, put a gently restraining hand on my arm. She smiled a calm, sweet smile, and shook her head, indicating with her glass that I should drink my wine. "It is very good wine, Bec-kett, I make it myself," she said softly.

The crying became muffled and I could hear Samiyo speaking quietly and reassuringly to his little brother, although I couldn't recognize the language. The crying subsided little by little while Samiyo continued to speak.

"I'm sorry," said the truly penitent sounding Kanonu.

"It's all right, Aaya. We all make mistakes, right? Everyone has accidents. Everyone. Eh?" Came Samiyo's gentle reply. Only now could I hear a trace of his mother's accent.

"Yes," Kanonu sniffled, “everyone has accidents."

"That's my little Aaya," I heard Sam say fondly, "Here are the towels. You clean up the mess and then come talk to us. I want to hear about your day. Eh?"

I could hear the sounds of a loud kiss and Samiyo's brief laugh. I heard liquid being poured, and his footsteps as Sam came back into the living room carrying a clear plastic tumbler of apple juice.

When he placed the tumbler on the table his mother reached out to him. Sam knelt by his mother who pulled him into a hug, murmuring something into his ear in their language before delivering a light tap to his backside, which caused Sam to blush and smile sheepishly. He kissed his mother soundly on the cheek then stood up to come sit on my right.

I handed him the third glass of wine and looked at him, seeing him in a whole new light. Something in my expression caused him to blush again and he gazed into his goblet as though looking for something in the wine. 

I leaned toward him and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before taking a sip out of my own glass. My gesture was met with a pleased, impish smile. I was grateful that we were in the presence of other people because I wasn't sure if I could have restrained myself otherwise. I caught a glimpse of a knowing sparkle in his mother's eyes. Suppressing a sheepish grin of my own I took another sip of the wine.

"This is wonderful, Mama," I said, combining the word and wine on my tongue and liking the combination. "You said you make this yourself?"

"Yes." She smiled proudly, "There are stands of wild blackberry in the woods behind the apartments, and I found blueberry bushes as well."

"I am told that this property was once a farm. I have also found patches of potatoes, onions, and cabbages which I tend and harvest. I grow tomatoes. There are wild turkeys, and rabbit and other small game that come to eat my garden. It is a shame to let perfectly good food go to waste, eh?"

"Yes ma'am, I mean, Mama," I grinned at her mock warning expression. "Your neighbors, they leave the garden alone?" I wondered.

Sam made a disgusted sound which caused his mother to raise her eyebrows at him. He quickly subsided but explained, "Most of them don't know what she harvests from the woods and they call her a witch. The children tell each other that the plants are poison and to touch them will cause them to die," he said with that familiar bite to his tone. "Others, the elderly ones, she cooks for, and shares the food so that they won't go hungry." His tone held both admiration and anger.

"If it were my sons, or grandmother who were going hungry, wouldn't I want someone to help them?" Mama said, pointedly looking at her oldest son. "What does our friend St. Matthew say?"

"Mama," Sam said pleadingly.

"Matthew twenty-three and thirty-five!" Crowed the nearly forgotten Kanonu, as he walked into the living room, "For I was hungry and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me," he recited proudly. "And in Hebrews thirteen and two it says, 'Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing, some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.' "

Sam released a mighty sigh borne of long-suffering and Mama laughed. "Very good, Kanonu," she praised. She turned to me and explained, "Kanonu can remember almost everything he hears. However, he's a little deaf when it comes to doing his chores," she smiled. "All of the juice is cleaned up?" she asked her youngest son.

"Yes, Mama! I even moved the refrigerator to make sure there wasn't any more underneath. I know that ants are God's creatures too, but I don't want them in our kitchen," he said, shuddering comically. Without skipping a beat, he blurted out, "Our Angel is here and we need to feed him too, Mama, and the food smells real good and I'm hungry. Can we eat now?" the young man said pleadingly, his brown eyes, so like his mother's reminding me of a basset hound puppy.

Our dinner, as promised, tasted even better than it smelled. I was grateful when Mama told me that she'd used beef instead of goat since Samiyo had told her I'd never had it before and she wasn't sure how my stomach would handle it.

"In Nigeria, this is what we call edikaikong," Mama said with a smile, ladling out a thick, fragrant soup. "Which is just a fancy way of saying vegetable soup. And this..." she continued, placing bowls of thick white paste beside each bowl, "is called Fufu."

"See! Look!" Kanonu said excitedly as he scooped a small amount of the fufu out of his bowl with his fingers, deftly rolled it into a small ball and dipped it into his soup before popping it into his mouth, "Mffff guud!" he said around a mouthful.

His mother said quietly but sternly. "Are those proper table manners, young man?"

Kanonu bowed his head in shame, "No, Mama. I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again."

"No, Mama."

"That's my sweet boy. Now, show Bec-kett, like a gentleman, how to do it," she smiled.

Kanonu smiled back happily and showed me, slowly and without speaking with his mouth full, how to roll the fufu and dip it. I tasted the soup and was surprised to find it was more than vegetables. There were fish and some kind of meat in it as well. I did wonder why it was considered a vegetable soup, but it was so savory that I forgot to ask the question.

The second course was Nigerian Fried Rice accompanied by spiced beef, which was so mouth-wateringly good that I couldn't speak for fear of drooling.

Dessert was a surprise for me, a typical American who was used to cake, pastries, cookies or even ice cream. Not tonight.

Mama Datoru served up a Nigerian delicacy called Nkwobi which contained no pastry, cake or ice cream. Instead, it was a mixture of several different types of meat, garnished with chopped greens and fresh onion rings. Except for Kanonu, who was given a glass of ice water, we all had another glass of Mama's homemade wine.

The rest of the night was spent in laughter as we listened to Kanonu regale us with the events of his day.

This was perhaps the best date I'd ever had, and I looked forward to more. More of the family, and definitely more of Samiyo.


	6. Samiyo and Beck

Bartender! Another Insult, Please!  
Chapter 6

It was another week before we could see each other since our schedules clashed, and even as the owner of my gallery I couldn't justify taking off too many nights, especially when we had a huge showing like tonight. However, we did talk frequently on the telephone and sent emails or texts when we weren't able to talk. I did receive several calls from his little brother, 'just to chat'. I found the conversations enlightening and enjoyable, even though his choice of times to call, 4 am, could have done with a slight change.

We had finally made a date to get away for Wednesday night and Thursday when the gallery and bar would both be next to empty. We hadn't any set plans other than to go to my apartment to have a homemade dinner, and relax in each other's company.

Other than chaste kisses I hadn't made any real moves on him yet, but I hoped tonight to get more than a taste of his full lips, and perhaps convince him to stay the night. I'd found that while I was wildly attracted to him, and according to his brother the feeling was mutual, I fantasized frequently about simply holding him close, falling asleep with my chin on his shoulder, feeling the smooth warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

That Wednesday he was scheduled to get off at nine so I went in at eight-thirty to sit and nurse a beer while I watched him work. I heard him as soon as I saw him, fending off amorous customers and joking with the wait staff.

"Hey Sam! I had a guy complain to me that you're a smart !@#. I stood up for you though buddy! I told him you're just an !@#."

"Johnny, you marvelous man you, thank you," Sam replied sweetly, "Oh and by the way, tomorrow is trash day so remember to stay inside while the trucks are coming by."

"!@#$ head." Jonah laughed as he picked up his orders.

"Nik ni ọwọ rẹ ki o si gba labara ara rẹ ni oju." Sam replied as he bowed toward his coworker.

"You bet my wish is your command, smart !@#." Johnny quipped back.

I'd heard him say that, or at least something like that, before to Crow, but there was something in my Sam's smile and the sly cant of his eyes that told me, without doubt, that he hadn't said anything complimentary.

One woman wouldn't stop hitting on him as he worked and I couldn't help but to smile. I felt that I knew him well enough to know that even if he were interested in women, she wouldn't be on his list. She was loud and wore entirely too much makeup and perfume.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!! I'm talkin' to ya! HEY! What's your problem? Your mother raise you to ignore a lady?"

His face froze into an expressionless mask for a moment at the mention of his mother, then he turned to look at the woman. "I never ignore a lady,” he said pointedly, before turning his back on her to wait on his other customers.

"Hey! HEY! Are you always an !@#$%^&?, or do you only act this way when I'm around!?" She countered.

"You do manage to annoy me, I'm afraid," he admitted, injecting just enough sorrow in his voice to make it sound extremely offensive.

"What! Now you're sayin' I annoy you? I annoy you!?"

"Oh, not all the time, sweetheart," he was quick to reassure her, "Only when you breathe."

She sat for several seconds, mouth opening and closing although thankfully no sound emerged. Finally, she slammed her hand down on the bar, got up noisily and flounced away. I winced when I saw the seams of her silver lame’ dress stretch dangerously tight over her more than ample hips. 

I have no problem with large women. As a matter of fact, I have to admit to myself that if I did fancy women, I would fancy larger women over their skinnier counterparts. But I did have a problem with people of any size wearing clothing that was obviously too tight or too loose on them. 

It wasn't long before yet another person tried to hit on him.

"Of course, I'd love to go out with you," I heard Sam say as he smiled that coy, enticing smile that sends jolts through my body. "We'll make it a threesome! This is my boyfriend. Isn't he delicious?" Sam continued, coming around the bar to embrace me. The words 'My boyfriend.' rang in my ears. I looked at Sam and then gave the other man an appraising look.

The patron looked at me, blanched until he was nearly as white as I am, apologized as he paid for his beer with a $50, and quickly made his way to the side exit.

I didn't know whether to be offended or not. I'm just a hair over six feet and athletically built, but I don't exactly picture myself as Herman Munster. I looked questioningly at Sam.

"Oh, you have no idea, do you? That makes you even sexier," he purred.

"OK, so clue me in?" I smiled, nibbling at his ear and neck, inhaling his cologne as he drew me away from the bar and into the darkened, currently unused coatroom.

"You have that lovely, exotic, pale skin and a face like an angel, but when you get angry or jealous your eyes turn nearly white with just a hint of pale blue, like an iceberg. It's thrilling, frightening, and ever so sexy at the same time. Guys who see that don't know whether to jump your bones or wet their pants," he joked as he came around to my side of the bar and kissed every part of my face that he could reach. He was especially attracted to my neck. Or should I say, attached, I thought with a smile.

"Oh, marvelous, I scare people... just what I always wanted," was my wry reply as he continued to kiss my neck. I put my finger gently beneath his chin and directed his lips to mine, conveying with that one kiss what I didn't seem able to tell him verbally at the moment.

His eyes widened and he licked his lips before standing on his toes to kiss me back, long and hard. The lightning strikes seemed to travel from my brain to my toes and back again, leaving a few electrified extremities that wouldn't behave.

"You know, I thought..." I said breathlessly.

He drew back slightly and in a sad tone replied, "A thought crossed your mind? Oh, the poor thing! It must have had a long, lonely journey." 

"Hey! Aim that somewhere else, little boy!" I replied sternly as he laughed. 

"Whatever you say, my little schlemiel," he said, wrapping his arms more tightly around my neck. 

I surprised him by swatting him on the rump. He drew his hands back to cover his backside. "I can't believe you just did that!" he gasped.

"If you aim that sarcasm at me again I'll give you more than one swat, understand me?"

"I... I... you... you..." he stammered.

"You will not sharpen that tongue on me," I said firmly, pinning him with my gaze. "or call me names. And as far as some of the things you say to the customers here, that is going to be toned down. I don't mean for you to stop altogether, it's part of who you are, just tone it down a hair. Understand me?"

"I don't... you can't... I..." Large, black-rimmed amber eyes seemed glued to mine.

"Samiyo Datoru," I said more gently, watching as he nervously licked those full lips, "I am not the enemy. I have no intention of leaving you. From the moment I saw you I knew you were what was missing from my life, and I'm not going to let it go for any reason."

Softening my expression and my stance. "Now, if you would still like to go home and have dinner we can do that. If you'd rather take the time to think about what I said then I understand, and I'll drop you off at your apartment."

"No... n-no t-that's all right..." He stuttered. "I'll just go... go home. I mean, I'll walk," he replied.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I was giving him a ride but he turned and all but ran into the kitchen. I would have followed him but I was stopped by Gordon, who refused to let me pass.

"Come on Gord! I'm family!"

"Insurance regs, Beck, you know that. Besides, after the debacle with the dishes, Pop said you were banned."

"Oh, come on Gord! That happened when I was seventeen! And if I remember, your father took strips out of me for it!"

Gordon put his arm around me and lead me toward the bar where Gary had just arrived to start his shift. "You just have a seat and a cola and then go home," he said kindly, "Whatever happened with you two, you'll work it out, just give him time."

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "He's been a lot kinder... a lot sweeter since he met you. You're good for him. Don't f*** it up." Then he patted me on the shoulder and went to make his rounds.

I left my cola untouched and went to stand by my car, but there was no sign of my Sam. Finally, I went home and laid down on my bed, thinking about my Sam and his eyes, before I fell asleep to dream about his kisses.


	7. Samiyo and Beck

Bartender! Another Insult Please! Part 7

Original Characters: Beckett Reed and Samiyo Datoru  
  


Taking deep breaths Sam turned on his laptop and queued up his playlist to listen to his favorite boys’ choir. He found the music and the angelic voices to be very relaxing and conducive to clear thought.

He laid on his bed, thinking about Beckett's smooth skin beneath his lips, the feel of their kiss, and his heartbeat quickened. Then he thought about the spank. It had been more of a surprise than painful. And Beckett's words. He'd been so... not angry, just... firm... stern. In a way that only his mother had ever been. In a way that Kanonu's father had been. 

He blushed, thankful that no one was nearby to notice. His mother, of course, had smacked his backside more than once while he was growing up, and had no problem, even though he was twenty-one, giving him the occasional swat when she felt he was out of line with her. He had learned early on to curb his tongue around her.

But Beckett... Samiyo closed his eyes and shook his head slightly as was his habit when he wanted to get his thoughts in order. He clasped his hands over his lean stomach and breathed deeply, a relaxation exercise that Kanonu's father, Joseph, had taught him to use when the neighborhood kids had been teasing his little brother.

The swat hadn't hurt in the slightest, and he didn't believe that Beckett would have harmed him. He was a forceful man, which Sam discovered that he liked. He found Beckett's confidence as attractive as the man himself. He'd enjoyed Beckett's pursuit of him. There had been no tiresome flirting, only simple statements of fact. Beckett exuded an ease and presence that Sam had found alluring.

But the spank had taken him off guard. It had been as intimate as the kiss they'd been sharing. It had been not unlike the ones his mother still meted out on those rare occasions when he forgot himself, but the sensation that had shot through him had been entirely different when Beckett had done it. It hadn't hurt. While it had taken him by surprise, it had felt right somehow, and Samiyo struggled to figure out why.

Beckett's words replayed themselves in Sam's mind, 'If you aim that sarcasm at me again I'll give you more than one swat, understand me?' 'You will not sharpen that tongue on me.' 'I have no intention of leaving you.'

And there it was, he thought. He had expected that Beck would be like so many of his past... he wouldn't call them lovers since nothing more than a little kissing had ever occurred between them. But without fail, once they'd met Kanonu their interest in him had waned and died.

He didn't blame his little brother by any means, but those instances had convinced him that he'd never meet anyone who could get past the surface of the boy, and see the wonderful child that he really was.

Beckett hadn't seemed phased by 'Nu, which he appreciated, but he was sure that it would only be a matter of time before the man did as the others had done, and just stopped calling him.

His mother had warned him more than once about his sharp tongue. He had gotten into more than one fight as a result of his sarcasm. Other kids had shied away from him in school because they were afraid of his biting remarks, and Samiyo's best friends had been the books in the school and public libraries. 

They didn't make remarks about his brother, tease him about the absence of a father in his life, or make fun of his mother's weight. There he'd found friends who spoke to him, told him amazing stories both real and imagined, and welcomed him with open pages. 

'I have no intention of leaving you.' Beckett's voice echoed in his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at his door. He knew it was his mother because Kanonu was more likely to barge in and jump on his bed rather than knock.

"Come in, Mama," he called.

His mother walked in with a smile and approached her son's bed. Sam sat up and moved over to make room for her to sit down. He watched, admiringly, as his mother gracefully crossed the room and sat beside him. Anger flared up in his chest as he thought of the close-minded, cruel people who made snide comments about her. He wished again that they could see her the way he did.

She leaned forward and gave her oldest son a kiss on his forehead, letting the kiss linger until she felt the tension ebb from his face and neck.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked gently.

"Talk about what, Mama?" Samiyo hedged.

"What is bothering you, of course."

"What makes you think anything is bothering me?"

She smiled a beautiful, soft smile that always made his heart want to explode for love of her. "I know you, mi dun kekere ọmọkunrin. I know when you are happy and when you are sad. This is the music you listen to when you are upset. I know when you need a shoulder, and I have two, good strong ones. Talk to me, ifẹ."  
(mi dun kekere ọmọkunrin - my sweet little boy) (ifẹ - love)

He looked at his mother, her face so much like his own, her heart, bigger than the hearts of all the people who lived in their complex showing in her beautiful eyes. His heart welled again with love and admiration. She had given up so much for him. Her place in her family, her life in Nigeria. If she had given him up at birth she would have eventually been forgiven by her parents and been accepted back into their family. Her friends would not have abandoned her. But she'd chosen to keep him, and had given up all she might have had for him.

He reached for her, enveloped her in a hug and kissed her soundly on the cheek. She hugged him back, one of those hugs that lingered long after she'd released him and calmed him inside.

"Is it Bec-kett?" She asked knowingly as she searched her oldest son's leonine eyes. "You have had an argument."

"Not... exactly," Sam replied, not sure how to tell his mother exactly what had happened and how it had made him feel.

"You are here, and not with him. You have perhaps unleashed that viper tongue on him and you now feel badly?" She answered, a soft smile on her lips. 

His silence and downcast eyes were answer enough.

"What happens between lovers is personal and private, and long gone are the days when you would tell me everything. It is a part of growing up. However," she continued, the hardness that would creep into her voice when she was displeased making itself known. "You are old enough now to know when it is necessary, and when it is not."

"You do not unleash that sharp wit at home, why?"

"Because you'll smack me if I do." Samiyo quipped then allowed himself a small laugh as his mother gave him a swat.

"Because you are among people who love you unconditionally, and accept you as you are. Do you think that Bec-kett would have pursued you had he found you unattractive in any way? That includes your mouth," she continued before he could argue that it was only a physical attraction.

"I have been advising you for years to stop and think before you speak. Not everyone is your enemy," she said, unknowingly echoing Beckett's words, "You do not need to protect yourself with Kanonu and me, nor do you need to do so with Bec-kett. It is clear that he loves you. You have driven off everyone who has shown interest in you, and yet this man will not be driven away. That is love. Think about that, eh?"

"Yes Mama," Samiyo replied, somewhat chastened. There was no way that he was going to tell her why his past relationships hadn't worked out, though he was pretty sure she already knew.

"It is late now. In the morning you will call Bec-kett and apologize for your words."

"What if he doesn't accept?" Sam asked sadly.

"If he is the man I think he is, he will take you back with open arms."

"Mama..." he began uncertainly.

"Yes ifẹ?"

"Beckett... he... I mean, he...." He trailed off lamely

His mother's eyes narrowed, "Did he harm you?"

"No. No of course not," Sam answered hastily, "He didn't harm me. I just wonder, no one has ever stayed with me for long. My biological father left. Joseph died and left us," he continued, referring to Kanonu's father. "Other than you and Kanonu I've never been close to anyone before and it scares me."

"Joseph did not leave us willingly, kekere ọmọkunrin. If people have not been able to become close to you it is because you have not allowed it," she said gently. "But I believe that Bec-kett loves you. He has heard how you deal with people, and yet he still pursued you, pursues you still. Speaks with you nearly every night, sees you as often as he can."

"Sleep now," she said, reaching out to smooth back his hair, "Call Bec-kett in the morning. I believe him to be a good man. I trust him with one of my most precious possessions, and I believe that you should trust him as well. Dara bayi?" she asked as she pulled his head over to rest on her shoulder.  
(Dara bayi? - Better now?)

"Bẹẹni Mama, dara."

"Good night then, mi omo."  
(My baby)

"Mama," he complained half-heartedly as he slid back down to rest his head on his pillow and pulled his blankets up before turning out his light. It took a little while until he fell asleep, thinking of Beck, thinking of the things his mother had said to him, and feeling some of the weight of the guilt that had been weighing on his chest lift slightly. He finally fell asleep, dreaming of the feel of Beckett's lips on his own.


	8. Samiyo and Beck

Bartender! Another Insult, Please!   
Chapter 8

Emira Datoru was just turning off her alarm clock when she was fully awakened by the sound of her youngest son screaming as though he were being boiled alive. A sure sign that he'd done something to dam up Samiyo's endless supply of patience.

She rolled her eyes as their neighbor pounded on the wall and yelled at them to shut up.

"I can't believe you did that! How dare you?! You little..."

"Samiyo! Da nigba ti o ba wa ni wa niwaju!" She called firmly as she got out of bed, wrapped a shawl around herself and walked quickly down the stairs to the living room where her two sons were shouting at each other.   
(Stop while you're ahead!)

"Mama! Mama! He's gonna kill me, Mama! Get him away from me!" Kanonu shouted, keeping the refrigerator between himself and his older brother. "Away from me! Away from me." He repeated in a near whisper. "Keep him away. Away."

Emira closed her eyes. 'Nu was repeating himself, always a bad sign when he was upset, it usually led to him hitting himself on the head. Sometimes it was a bid for sympathy, but most times it was real, and then she had to hold him until he calmed down.

"I'm not going to kill you, Nu, but you're gonna wish I had when I ..."

"Samiyo!" Emira said loudly enough to be heard over the two of them. 

"Mama! You don't know what he did!"

"Mama! He's gonna kill me! Gonna kill me! Kill me!" The boy's hands clenched and splayed repeatedly. Yes, this was for real.

"You had no right..."

"I only wanted to help...to help..." Kanonu replied, his eyes unfocused and looking somewhere at the wall rather than his brother.

"Boys!"

"Tell him to stop! Stop! Stop! Tell him..."

"Tell him to stand still so I can..."

If there was one thing Emira disliked it was yelling. She had made a point to bring her sons up by example, and rarely yelled, nor did she tolerate them yelling at each other unless it was in play, and outside the apartment. Even then at a more reasonable hour. Five o'clock in the morning was much too early, as evidenced by their next door neighbor once more pounding on the wall yelling at them to stop or he'd call management. Resorting to her second option, she picked up two sauce pans and clanged them together, wincing as their neighbor hit the wall between their apartments hard enough to make it shake, and to make it clear that he had both heard and disapproved of the noise coming from their apartment.

It did the trick however, and both of her sons stopped dead in their tracks. 

"Sit," She ordered quietly but sternly, pointing with one of the pans toward the couch.

"Mama..." both boys said in tandem.

"Sit," she repeated levelly as she put the pans on the counter before opening a drawer and taking out the dreaded wooden spoon.

"Make him sit first." Kanonu said, still keeping the refrigerator between himself and his brother. "Make him sit first. Sit first," he said, looking somewhere over Sam's shoulder.

"Samiyo," was all his mother had to say. He sat on the couch with a thunderous expression aimed at his little brother. As usual, when he was particularly angry, he wished that Kanonu would go somewhere else. Anywhere. He always felt guilty for thinking such a horrible thing after the ruckus between them died down, and he never said it aloud, but at times like this... he cut his thoughts off when his mother

Emira motioned to Kanonu who then entered the room and sat on the love seat, eyes on his brother and ready to run if Sam so much as twitched a finger at him.

"Samiyo, tell me what happened."

"He's a big mouthed shi..." Sam began angrily, shooting daggers from his eyes at his little brother.

Before Sam could say another word, Emira picked the spoon up from where she'd placed it on the coffee table and advanced on him. 

"I'm sorry, Mama," he said as he put up his hands in surrender.

"Samiyo?" She asked again.

"He called Beckett! He's been calling him all along to 'chat'! He told Beckett... jeez Mama he told Beckett pretty much everything I've ever said about him!"

"I was only trying to help!" Kanonu protested again. "Trying to help... to help..."

"Help! You humiliated me! I don't think I'll ever be able to look him in the eye again! What were you thinking?" Sam yelled at his brother.

Kanonu stubbornly refused to respond to his brother, focused his gaze on their mother and refused to speak to or acknowledge Sam, although they could both hear him whispering the last words that had come out of Sam's mouth while he twisted his fingers into pretzels.

"Samiyo," his mother said in warning.

"No Mama! I'm tired of this! You let him get away with murder and I'm just supposed to say, 'Oh, that's all right. Go ahead and f*** my life up...', ahhhh! Mama!" He protested loudly as his mother brought the wooden spoon down on his thigh six times.

"Lan-gu-age!" She warned.

She then turned to Kanonu, got him to his feet and gave him three whacks. Her youngest son opened his mouth to cry but she cut him off. "Hush you!" She told him sternly. "You had no bus-i-ness calling Bec-kett for any reason, es-pec-e-al-ly not this morning."

Before he could justify himself, she said, "What happens between Bec-kett and Sa-mi is between them, and you just keep yourself out of it. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes Mama. Yes, mama, yes," Kanonu replied quietly. 

She noted the lack of echo and tears and took a deep breath to calm herself down, "Did you call Bec-kett this morning?" she asked, her accent thickening as it often did when she was angry,

"Yes Mama," Kanonu replied.

"What time did you call him?"

"I don't remember," he said, looking at the clock above the television set as though it would tell him. "Don't remember," he repeated wringing his fingers into what looked like painful knots.

Emira looked at the clock which now read 5:34 am and sighed. Her shift at the hospital started at 8 and she hadn't even had her shower yet.

Five thirty-five. "And you told him what Sa-mi told me?" She repeated, trying to remain calm.

"Yes Mama. But I was only trying to help," the teen said, tears welling in his eyes again. "trying to help... to help."

Samiyo had been about to say something akin to 'I told you so' when he noticed his mother run a hand across her eyes. A sure sign that she was tired and worn out, and Sam felt the guilt hit like a fastball. 

Everyone had known that Kanonu, from the day he was born, was going to have difficulties. Even though he was still very young, he'd been tentatively diagnosed with PDD, pervasive developmental disorder, which was confirmed once he'd gotten older. His father Joseph, the only father Sam had ever known, had died four years later of complications due to pneumonia. Sam had been as much of a help to her as any ten-year-old could be, but that had still left a lot for his mother to deal with on her own.

"Mama... I'm sorry. It's not that big of a deal. I... he just... surprised me is all. I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "You go on and take your shower. This is ended as far as I'm concerned, all right?" he said softly, taking the spoon away gently and wrapping his arms around his mother.

"I'm sorry Mama. Sorry Mama. Sorry," Kanonu echoed softly. "I'll go get dressed," he said to the floor as he headed toward the stairs and up to the room he and his brother shared.

"Go on, Mama," Sam said quietly, giving his mother another gentle kiss and hug. "I'll make you a pot of good strong coffee, and make sure Kanonu gets on the bus to school. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

"I know that things have not always been easy or fair for you," she replied quietly, looking into his beautiful eyes. Today more amber than their usual light golden brown. "I know that your brother does get away with a lot more than you ever did, and that I have asked much of you ever since he was born. And..." Ever since Joseph died, she thought, but couldn't bear to say aloud.

"Mama, it's all right. I'm all right. I just forgot myself for a little while." Samiyo said, hugging her tightly. "It's early, I was still half asleep when I heard him, I wasn't thinking clearly. Go on now," he smiled, "I'll take care of everything," he promised.

Gratefully returning the smile, she went back upstairs to shower and get into her nursing uniform.

He hated it when he upset her, and he hated it when he lost patience with his little brother because those were the times that he felt he'd let Joseph, who had asked him to watch over them, down. With a quick prayer of apology, he quickly made a pot of coffee, toasted bagels, set out coffee cups, poured a glass of milk for 'Nu and placed his meds beside the glass.

He thought about what he'd heard Kanonu saying when he'd come downstairs for a glass of milk and he blushed hotly. It was then that the boy came down, neatly dressed, into the kitchen with his eyes averted.

"'Nu, I'm not mad anymore. I know you meant well and I'm not mad, all right?" He said gently, ducking a little to see his brother's face.

Kanonu looked up from under eyelashes, as thick and dark as his brother's, and focused his gaze somewhere around his brother's left ear, "OK?" he asked uncertainly.

"OK." Sam repeated. "Can I hug you?" It was important to ask his little brother if touch were all right. He'd learned long ago that his brother didn't always react well to being touched but would tolerate and sometimes even return a hug if asked.

Kanonu held out his arms and buried himself in his big brother's embrace. That was how Emira found her two boys when she came down for a quick breakfast.


End file.
